Author: Wu Chusheng
Dusk mist
The sky hangs over the countryside.
Hazy into a faint landscape painting.
The smoke that has been lingering for thousands of years is still there
The green hills that have been silent for thousands of years are still there.
Read the dusk in the country.
Poems written by geese in the sky on the moon
Fresh and meaningful
Even the sheep herder
The shepherd boy's flute entering the gallery
It also shook the drunken moon in Dongshan.
Make a Zen-like country charm.
I hope my eyes flash into dusk.
Looking at Shanshan's footsteps in the stone path
2. "When the weather is fine"
Author: Dai Wangshu
When the weather is clear,
It's time to take a walk on the path;
Muddy roads soaked by rain,
Must be cool and gentle;
Show new green grass,
Immediately washed away the dirt;
White chrysanthemum that is no longer timid,
Slowly raise their heads,
Try cold, try warm,
Then the petals break out of the shell;
Butterflies shake off water droplets.
Walking freely among the leaves,
The page of wisdom that decorated it.
Open and close when exposed to sunlight.
Take a walk on the path,
When the weather is fine;
Barefoot, hand in hand,
Tread across the stream in fresh mud.
Xinyang pushes away the haze,
The warm wind wrinkled the stream,
Look at the dark green moving in the mountains-
The footprint of the cloud-it is also wandering.
3. Countries
Author: Zhang
The primitive wind brings primitive night to the countryside,
The neem tree in the moonlight is like a guitarist who failed in the countryside.
The disrepair door infected me-
The old house where I once lived,
The mottled brick wall is troubled by years.
Tilt: an era, only left
Faded slogans.
Painful memories creaked on the old wooden chair,
Night cools the pain in the countryside.
But the silence of the country erased my sleep,
I fumbled for the bronze lock on the door.
The broken moonlight on the window,
Innocent bats cast black prophecy.
And I, like an exile in the country,
Dream, put the dream of the country
Take away, take away, take away.
4. The memory of the country
Author: Deng Gang
The boat rowed across the inlet.
If the sun is nearby, the land is green and wet.
The wind blew gently and rolled up the bamboo forest.
From outside the peach blossom forest
The familiar nursery rhymes come from Waipoqiao.
The fake is erhu.
Hanging on the brow all the year round
Old Lola is talking about "The Water Margin" on crutches.
Ploughs are rowing "Shen Feng" in the fields.
How many children did Pu Songling scare?
The shepherd boy is playing truant.
Step on the note, step on the lock.
Chasing the bride's sedan chair
The play in the dam
On the stage, gongs and drums are loud, such as wine.
Have a drink, guys.
The wheat is about to ripen.
The old man pulled a scooter.
An undershirt, covered with dust.
Cunzhang tea shop
At the other end of the leaf
Proximity stimulus
The sharpener came, from one village to another.
Here comes the reaper.
Rural customs and ancient culture
The scenery is too bad
Walk into the original ecological exhibition hall in the city.
year after year
The countryside is approaching the city.
But the sun still jumped down from the earth wall.
Give it to farmers and let them grow crops everywhere.
The land changed color.
Everything else is innocent.
Snow in the village
I miss the taste of my hometown.
Author: Ling Feng
Sitting on the ridge in the country
Picked up the glass and drank the homemade steamed buns and grain wine.
Eating pigs and ham in the mountain village.
The smell of home overflows from the corners of the mouth.
Raise your cup.
To my old father.
Home-brewed wine flowed down the corner of my father's eye.
Flow with a smile
A hunchbacked mother
Busy in a smoky kitchen
The food on the table smells delicious.
Draw a protest of the puppy in the corner.
The hens flying around the henhouse kept cheering.
I wonder if the native chicken can fill the wooden box I carry with me.
I'm full/overeated/full
A ray of sunset has lost its light.
The moon in my hometown is getting more and more round.